It's Love Not Rocket Science
by conscriptum
Summary: Zack's stay at the asylum get's much better after the arrival of a new patient who night even get him to open up. ZACKxOC - rated M for precautionary measures.


_**A/N: I do not own the character of Zack Addy, nor do I own the television series bones. I only own the plot and any OC's I add into the story. The next chapters will be longer. Reviews are greatly appriciated.**_

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><p>The past months had been hard for Zack. Everyone had told him that he would not do well in jail, but the asylum had not been treating him very well either. The visits he received, while pleasant, were not frequent. His family was in Michigan and everyone at the Jeffersonian had to work, despite his absence. There were good reasons why they didn't come, but that didn't make his stay at the institution any less miserable. It certainly did nothing to silence the thoughts that they were avoiding him. That would also be very understandable. He sighed, and turned his attention to the events unfolding just beyond the walls of the institution. He was on the second floor so he could see little aside from the tops of trees and the occasional bird, but it still allowed for a certain sense of comfort. At least, until he was distracted by the loud crash of the common room doors opening. A large man walked in, to his side a young woman. The man wore an outfit similar to the one worn by the person who brought him here, so he assumed that the woman was a patient.<p>

"This is the common room. You'll be spending your days here with the other patients from the morning until lights out. That is, unless we decide to need to be placed in isolation." He ended with a chuckle, as if being in isolation was funny to him, and left.  
>The girl was left standing there, alone. She looked around the room at the other patients. In one corner there were to men carrying a conversation. They occasionally glanced around to see if anyone was watching them, but always returned to each other. There were a few women sitting on a old couch in the center of the room. They always sat there together, but Zack had never one seen them converse. There were a few patients standing by the windows and watching people and cars go by. Mostly, patients walked about and sat in the stray chairs set up about the room. Zack however, sat apart from the rest at the tables set up on the far side of the room. There were times others would sit at the surrounding tables, but it wasn't often. Zack looked up at her, to see where she would choose to sit. He wished he had not, for the moment she realized he was looking her way, she began to walked towards him. He quickly looked away, but it was useless. Within moments she was standing at the opposite side of the table. She cleared he throat and he looked up at her.<br>"Can I sit here?" she inquired.  
>"That is not my choice to make." he stated flatly.<br>She stood for a moment, before pulling out one of the metal chairs and taking a seat. Again she cleared her throat.  
>"If you are experiencing discomfort, you can ask one of the orderlies for a some water." he said keeping his eyes on the table.<br>She looked over to him and let out a soft chuckle. His head snapped upward at her and he shot her a quizzical look.  
>"Why is that humorous?"<br>She put her arm on the table and held her head up with her hand.  
>"I didn't say it was." She smirked.<br>Zack adjusted his posture. He might not be the most skilled person when it came to reading people, but even he knew that laughing meant something was funny.  
>"You laughed." he stated. "Laughing indicates that you found something humorous. You laughed directly after my statement, which means you thought it was comical. Which, was not my intention."<br>She rolled her eyes. "I was just trying to get your attention when I cleared my throat."  
>"Oh."<br>She let the silence seep into the conversation and adjusted herself in the chair. Suddenly, her eyes widened and a grin spread across her face.  
>"I know you!" she exclaimed pointing a slender finger directly between his eyes.<br>He took hold of her hand and placed it down onto the table.  
>"I don't think you know me. This is the first time meeting you. I know this because I have an incredible memory. I would not forget meeting someone. Also, you have very aesthetically pleasing bone structure, which is something I would likely recall."<br>She shook her head. "That's right. We haven't met. That doesn't mean I don't know who you are."  
>He laughed quietly and shook his head. It was unapparent if he was laughing at her or if there was something else that he found funny.<br>"How?" He asked skeptically.  
>She smirked. He didn't believe her, she could tell. "I saw you in a newspaper article a while back. You used to solve murders before you got locked up in here, right?"<br>His jaw dropped. That article was so old. Before he went off to Iraq, before Gormogon. Back when everything was normal. He let out a soft sigh before looking up to her.  
>"Yes, that it correct. No one has ever recognized me from that article before."<br>"Well, there's a first time for everything." she said. "So, what did a 'wildly intelligent' crime soling forensic anthropologist do to end up in a place like this?"  
>He looked back down at the table.<br>"That is none of your concern." he said coldly.  
>She stood up using the edge of the table to hoist herself up.<br>"Well, I'll see you around, Dr. Addy."  
>He snapped his head up to look at her. He was about to speak again but she raised her arm to a slight wave and walked off. He couldn't help but notice the bandages that were wrapped around her arm, and assumed that had something to do with why she was here. He was intrigued by her, he had to admit at least that.<br>He didn't talk with her for the rest of the day and as he lay in bed that night he wondered why she had told him she would see him later when she didn't even make an effort to see him. He hated how she caught his attention so easily. How she had taken up so much of his thoughts and she had barely entered his life. As he contemplated why this was, trying to find a reasonable explanation he heard a soft but frantic knock at the door. He stood up and positioned himself as close as possible to the door.  
>"Who is it?" he said, hopefully loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door.<br>"It's me. Let me in Dr. Addy, before the orderlies see me out here!"  
>He knew who it was immediately and opened the door. She swiftly slid in and sat on the edge of his bed. She looked about the room. It wasn't very different from her own, but there were a few things that set it apart from the others. There was a small trophy that stood on the asylum's excuse for a nightstand. It had a small plate on the base which read "King of the Lab" in carved letters. There was a harmonica placed next to it. The walls had a picture of what appeared to be a cartoon rendering of Zack which also read "King of the Lab" along with what seemed to be an acceptance letter to the Jeffersonian.<br>"I like what you've done with the place."  
>"Why are you here?" he demanded.<br>She laid back, stretching out across the hospital sheets.  
>"Aren't you happy to see me?" she whined with mock sadness.<br>Zack who did not pick up on the sarcastic undertone she was conveying was taken back by the remark. He froze for a moment. He had missed her, actually. He wanted to know more about her. She had some knowledge about him, but he hadn't even been told her name.  
>"Well, yes. I did, but that doesn't explain why you're here."<br>She smiled.  
>"I said I'd see you later didn't I? It's later."<br>He walked over and sat beside her on his bed. That was the best answer he was going to get, and he had to accept that. He peered out of the window, which were sealed shut in the bedrooms, and then over to her. The lights were off but the light of the moon and streetlights lit the room enough to see her face clearly. Her pale skin appeared almost translucent, though it was somehow flattering. She had large brown eyes and long lashes. Her hair was a very dark brown and fell in messy waves down to the middle of her back. Most of her hair fell in her face, but the way she was laying allowed them to fall back revealing more of her face.  
>"The lighting in this room accents your facial features in a very pleasing manner." he stated after a moment.<br>She smiled, half to herself and half at him.  
>"Hannah." she said abruptly.<br>"Pardon?"  
>"That's my name. Hannah Darrow." She spoke without looking away from the ceiling. "I know you're name obviously."<br>He nodded, wondering if she would continue speaking. When she did not he assumed he should say something.  
>"You do not have to refer to me as '' if you don't want to."<br>She briefly looked up at him, but returned her gaze to the white ceiling above them. "What do you want me to call you then?"  
>"Zack."<br>She nodded. "Okay then, Zack."  
>She stood up and walked to the unoccupied bed on the other side of the room.<br>"Where are you going?" he asked contemplating whether or not he should get up and follow.  
>"To sleep."<br>And with that she turned to face the wall and closed her eyes, leaving Zack with multiple questions, but very few answers.

The following day Zack awoke to an empty room. Initially he thought he had dreamed the previous day, but thought to check before jumping to any conclusions. He walked out into the common room, took his 'breakfast' from the orderlies at the desk and went to his usual seat. However, today he would apparently be dining with company because sitting across from his usual seat was Hannah. He smiled to himself briefly before walking to the table and sitting down across from her.  
>"Good morning." she said scooping a plastic fork full of food into her mouth.<br>"Where were you this morning?" he questioned looking down at his plate, attempting to figure out what he was going to be eating.  
>"Getting my blood taken by an orderly."<br>She pointed at his plate with her fork.  
>"It looks disgusting, but it's really not that bad."<br>He looked at her skeptically, but took a bite anyway. She was right, it looked much worse than it was.  
>"How did you get back without anyone noticing?"<br>She smirked at his inquiry. She had hardly been there but had already figured out how to sneak around. She allowed herself to chuckle at her small victory.  
>"I woke up early, it was completely quiet outside the door so I made a real quick run for my room. I got my blood taken a while after. They said something about it being procedure." She shrugged. "It doesn't really matter to me. Needles aren't a big deal, not for me at least."<br>Zack felt the urge to ask about the bandages on her wrist, but knew that if it was in fact a factor to her presence at this table, she would ask him as to why he was here. That was information he did not want to share. At least, not this soon. Granted, they were all here for a reason, and she had no right to judge him. Still, he did not want to risk what little company he could rely on while here. Almost as if reading his mind, she began to speak.  
>"You did something really messed up to get here, didn't you?"<br>He froze up at the thought of his actions. How did she know? It had to be a lucky guess. There was no way she knew that much about him. It would have to be intentional, and there was no way of knowing she would be here with him. She couldn't have planned. He didn't want to risk whatever secrets he might have.  
>"Why do you say that?" he asked scooping another bite of food into this mouth.<br>"Well, you seem like a sweet guy." she placed her fork down on her plate. "You don't seem like the suicidal type, nor do you seem like the kind of guy to commit a crime of passion. You honestly don't look criminal at all."  
>He raised a brow at her. "So, why is it you think I've done something very wrong to get here?"<br>"I'm getting to that." Her words were sharp, but somehow weren't threatening. "You obviously did something that was bad enough to get you locked away from society. So it seems to me like you fit into the category of crazy people who seem normal outwardly, but inside are as fucked as it gets."  
>He swallowed his food, allowing for a brief silence before speaking again. "If I tell you why I'm here, you will tell me why you're here?" She nodded.<br>"I was convinced by man that the best way to help society was to kill and eat members of secret societies. I never actually killed or ate anyone, though I've only disclosed to few people that I've never killed. Hodgins says I wouldn't do well in jail." When he finished speaking he looked down at the table, obviously ashamed.  
>She reached out and placed her hand on top of his. He looked up at her, to see that she was smiling at him. He didn't understand why she would stay there, let alone help him, but it was still welcomed.<br>"Thank you." he said softly.  
>"I guess this means it's my turn to tell my story?" he nodded.<br>She let out a sigh and pulled back the bandages on her arm. The sight was not pretty. It had healed very well considering what it must have looked like initially. It was fairly obvious that was intended to be fatal. Most likely it would have been if it was left unattended. His eyes widened and he peered up into her eyes.  
>"It was my third attempt." She let out a laugh that was hearty but short. "I even suck at committing suicide, apparently."<br>Zack's lips remained in a cold straight line. He failed to see the humor in the situation.  
>"The first time I tried they kept me at the E.R. after that a short term mental hospital. Now they sent me here because it was 'the only option they had'." She scoffed and shook her head. "I understand though."<br>"Why?" he said, almost a whisper.  
>"It all just gets to be too much sometimes." was her only reply.<br>Zack just nodded. He wasn't sure what it was about her, but he didn't want her to feel that way anymore. It wasn't logical. Not even a little bit. But for now, logic was taking a back seat. He would think this through later. Right now, this was more important.


End file.
